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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25525546">let your plans be dark and impenetrable (or, Gorgeous)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ginexvra/pseuds/ginexvra'>ginexvra</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>the art of war (and love) [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Hope that's cool, after the field of the eagle and lion, and what else he could have said after, and what happened before, claude was clearly drunk during that mind bowl speech, drunk claude, edelgard and claude could have been friends in another life, give me all the house leader interactions, i use my own byleth's name</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 07:41:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,549</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25525546</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ginexvra/pseuds/ginexvra</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Claude says, "You're glowing."</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"You are. Like the moon at midnight."</p><p>"You're drunk, Claude."</p><p>"Yeah," he concedes. He shrugs, and the green eyes close momentarily. When they open again, he says, "But I'm not lying."</p><p>-------</p><p>(Or, c'mon. Claude was TOTALLY drunk during that "My bowl is bigger than Teach's" speech.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>My Unit | Byleth &amp; Claude von Riegan, My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>the art of war (and love) [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1481300</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>58</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/treesblooming/gifts">treesblooming</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>It's been monthSSSS since I wrote these fics but I hope you haven't forgotten Gloriana!</p><p>Finished this drunk!Claude fic just in time for Claude's birthday week + FE3H's first anniversary + <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/treesblooming">@treesblooming</a>'s birthday!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p>Claude gets passed-out <em> drunk </em>at the feast he arranges after the mock battle at the Field of the Eagle and Lion.</p><p>After their sound victory he had proposed a feast at dinner, less to celebrate the Golden Deer's triumph but more to promote sportsmanship among the three Houses.</p><p>Edelgard had readily agreed. "I have no choice but to drown my sorrow at losing in overindulgence," she had said. Dimitri followed suit. Claude encouraged mixed seating that night, and the three house leaders attached themselves to Gloriana the whole evening. He apologized exaggeratedly throughout the night for subjecting her to more arguments between “Their Royal Highnesses”, though he egged them on in turn every step of the way.</p><p>Still, the three of them made stimulating dinner company. Even after several barrels of whiskey were brought in after Archbishop Rhea left the dining hall, Gloriana kept her seat. Dimitri drank precisely one glass out of politeness, stating that it would be unseemly for him to have any more. He and Dedue left soon after, before the merriment turned truly raucous. </p><p>Left at their table, conversation between Edelgard, Claude, and Gloriana turned almost friendly, continuing the thread of their confrontation in the library about each others’ secrets.</p><p>It wasn’t the most productive of reconnaissance missions, given how tight-lipped all three of them were about their personal and political lives. But it was nice to discuss everything <em> else </em>that they could talk about - how Edelgard loved pink carnations, how Claude secretly enjoyed chamomile tea, and how Gloriana, for all her astuteness in battle, was hopeless at chess.</p><p>And of course, religion.</p><p>Neither of the two House leaders seemed particularly fond of the Seiros religion - obviously a sore topic of conversation with Dimitri, but one that seemed to energise and unite the “heathens”, as Claude put it jokingly.</p><p>“Fine, call me a heathen,” Edelgard says recklessly, a bitter bite in her tone. “I just don’t agree that churchmen should be involved in matters of state.”</p><p>Claude had seized this thread of conversation immediately. "But isn’t that where your family’s power comes from, O Future Emperor? The divine right to rule of monarchs, and all that?"</p><p>"True, but nobody thought to ask if after a thousand years after the death of Saint Seiros, that my people would still want to be shackled to their obsolete teachings."</p><p>Gloriana swirled her drink in her glass. “Obviously, I’m uninformed, but is there no way to govern that doesn’t involve the Church?”</p><p>“The old guard - the nobles, I mean - are too set in their ways,” Claude explained. “Noble families hold Crests and Relics, and the Church of Seiros rewards them for producing more children with Crests to keep using the Relics. The way things are currently set, it gives them the nobles access to the Church’s wealth and power, so no one’s in a hurry to change the arrangement. Even if it means living under the Church’s laws.”</p><p>His voice lost its blitheness for a moment. “Ordinary people don’t seem to be eager for change, either. They think they’d be lost without Seiros’ teachings and protection. If they weren’t closed off from the rest of the world, they would see this isn’t true.”</p><p>“Quite,” Edelgard agrees. “Perhaps they just haven’t entertained the option of a life where they are free to govern themselves yet.”</p><p>“I’m optimistic that people <em> can </em>learn in time. Look at Teach. She grew up untouched by the Church of Seiros, and she turned out all right.”</p><p>At the words <em> untouched by the Church of Seiros, </em>Gloriana changed the subject abruptly. “You weren’t born sitting at that table of lords and nobles, Claude. Wouldn’t you have rather escaped the burden of government, like you managed thus far?”</p><p>“Oh no,” Claude replied. “Where I’m from - " - and he timed this sentence just as Edelgard took a sip of her whiskey, so he can shoot a wink at Gloriana covertly - " - you must constantly be proving you’re fit to lead. It isn't about being born into it. You don’t get a seat at the table unless you ardently want to be there.”</p><p>“And are you ardent?” Edelgard challenged.</p><p>“About being king or duke or whatever? Not really,” Claude said, stretching his arms over his head, the picture of nonchalance. If she knew him a little less, the gesture would have disarmed her into thinking his next words carried no weight. “But about the difference I can make as a leader, absolutely.” </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>That had been about an hour ago.  Now it was closer to midnight than eleven, and festivities or not, the dining hall had to shut down. The majority of the Blue Lions and Black Eagles students were eager to turn in, but the exuberant victors of the Golden Deer House were still high on their celebrations. Lorenz had proposed heading up to the common room “for a nightcap” before turning into bed.</p><p>Gloriana picks up Claude by the arm and slaps his cheek to wake him. In drunken sleep, his face is peaceful, wiped clean of the twinkling eyes and scheming smiles that charge his features when he's awake. A faraway voice in her head - <em> not </em> Sothis - registers how <em> intimate </em> it feels to hold his face in her palm. Her stomach twists.</p><p>She taps at his cheek more insistently, willing him to wake up so she can stop being so close to him. “Claude. Claude. Party’s over. It’s time to go.”</p><p>Edelgard looks around and spies a goblet of water somewhere on the table. She offers it to Gloriana to throw on Claude's face, but just then Claude stirs and Gloriana is able to coax him onto his feet, slinging his arm over her shoulders.</p><p>Edelgard makes a tiny moue of disappointment - cheeky, private, meant only for the little bubble of suspended time the three of them had created today.</p><p>Gloriana chuckles and whispers, “Maybe next time.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>With one of Claude’s arms over her shoulders, they make their slow progress out of the dining hall and up the stairs. This close (and under the cloud of the scent of whiskey) his skin smells earthy and warm, but there’s also a sharp tang of pine coming off his clothes. Her chest aches a little, though she can’t quite name a reason why.</p><p>"S'aparty over?" Claude slurs in her ear, his chin digging into her shoulder. </p><p>"Yes, Claude. You're very drunk."</p><p>"Am not."</p><p>She lifts him up a little, demonstrating how much of his weight is supported by her. "And yet, here you are."</p><p>Claude slackens a little in her grasp, just for a second. Teasingly. "Maybe it's exactly where I planned to be. Where’s Edelgard?"</p><p>“Gone to bed. You should too.”</p><p>His braid brushes against Gloriana's cheek, the tip tickling the corner of her lips. She tilts her face away to get the hair out of her mouth.</p><p>Claude's vivid green eyes meet hers unexpectedly, and she stops walking to balance herself. "Teach." </p><p>He looks so rough-hewn from this angle, all heavy eyelids and cheekbones and brown skin flushed from drink. By the light of the torches she can see the  beginnings of stubble growing out of his chin.</p><p><em> He's eighteen </em>, she remembers. Sometimes she forgets he's not that young. And that, if she let herself remember, he could be quite handsome.</p><p>Handsome - and close. Much too close. Those green eyes are still on her, pinning her with that hazy but helplessly honest gaze of the inebriated, and Claude says, "You're glowing."</p><p>Not what she expected. "What?"</p><p>"You are. Like the moon at midnight."</p><p>"Claude, you're talking nonsense." She lifts him higher up on her shoulders and resumes walking, cheeks flaming.</p><p>"No, look, you - " - and here Claude digs his feet into the floor, so they have to stop again - " - you do this thing where you take all the light in the room. And make it look like it comes from you. And the torches can’t hold a candle - and the candles - everywhere else is darkness. And I can’t - I don’t - I can't look away."</p><p>If Gloriana had a heart, she's sure it would be beating right out of her chest right now. As it is, the only things confirming her emotion were her ears getting hot and her entire being itching to fly out of her skin.</p><p>"You're drunk, Claude."</p><p>"Yeah," he concedes. He shrugs, and the green eyes close momentarily. When they open again, he says, "But I'm not lying."</p><p>She can't even name what she's feeling, caught as she is between waiting breathlessly for Claude's next words and being terrified of what she might say in return.</p><p>Claude moves his hand from where she’s gripping him by his wrist, and laces their fingers together. They set off walking again.</p><p>He doesn't say anything more, and Gloriana hears nothing else but the soft puffs of his breath from where his head rests on her shoulder. That, and the pounding of her pulse in her ears. </p><p>She doesn’t remove her hand until they come to the common room door and she reaches for the handle.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Hilda looks at them curiously as they enter, and Gloriana labours to keep her face impassive, wiped clean of any emotion she might have felt...five seconds before. <em> Was still </em> feeling. </p><p>She deposits Claude onto a vacant divan before allowing herself to be swarmed by the rest of the Golden Deer. He collapses sideways, his arm dangling dangerously off the edge. But she didn’t dare chance a look at him again.</p><p>Sylvain winces. “Yikes, someone better get water in him or he'll regret his entire life tomorrow." Ingrid goes to fetch a pitcher.</p><p>The rest of her students cluster around her excitedly, eager to thank her again, and again, and again, and to relive their favourite parts of the battle. Even the normally tacit Marianne had come forward to express her thanks</p><p>“Because of you, I managed to get through the fight without feeling like a burden,” Marianne whispers in her sweet, birdlike voice. “Thank you, Professor.”</p><p>Gloriana softens. Her whole teenhood had been about combat and tactics, formations and positions. She could run a mission forwards and backwards, with her eyes closed and hands tied behind her back, before she even downed her first cup of coffee. </p><p>But these kids still had little in the way of true battle experience. And for them to come out victorious against their more well-trained, well-equipped, royal and noble peers, she could see why this day's win was all the more empowering. </p><p>She looks each face in the eye before she speaks. “This victory belongs to each and every one of you. No one who saw the Golden Deer House today could deny that you deserved to own this day. You all worked so hard.”</p><p>“Yeah, you really showed them, Teach! I would really hate to be on your bad side,” a slurry but significantly more revived voice pipes up from the divan. Claude pulls himself up a little unsteadily, but he manages to get to his feet.</p><p>“Our leader has decided to grace us with his presence,” grumbles Lorenz. Claude smiles cheerfully as he joins the group, the way he always does when he knows it will irritate his rival.</p><p>“It is I who receives grace, as Teach here has done us the splendid honour of choosing our House and making champions out of our motley crew.”</p><p>Claude slings his arm around Gloriana’s shoulders as he speaks. “Your tactics were ingenious, and you've somehow mastered the power of the King of Liberation's Relic. You really are - it was - beautiful. Incredible. Though you can be a bit absentminded at times. Your mind is like - a giant bowl. With a tiny crack in it.”</p><p>Hilda squints. “Claude, saying that only makes your own mind bowl seem tiny.”</p><p>“How dare you,” Claude challenges, unable to keep the laughter from his voice. He lunges towards Hilda, but doesn’t relinquish his hold on Gloriana’s shoulders. Locked in the crook of his elbow, she stumbles forward a couple of steps as he gets into Hilda’s face.</p><p>Again, she is assaulted by the smell of whiskey and pine. She lets her gaze rove around their growing “motley crew” - all watching the scene with avid interest. Anywhere but those hazy green eyes.</p><p>“My bowl is much bigger than Teach's! Unfortunately, it doesn't just have a crack,” Claude concedes to whatever Hilda had retorted. “The whole bottom of my bowl is missing.”</p><p>"What are you talking about?" Lysithea breaks in, exasperated, as everyone else finally jumps in and their usual bickering begins.</p><p>Hilda giggles to Marianne, “Claude had too much wine at one of my brother’s dinners last winter. It was <em> exactly </em> like this.”</p><p>She leans on the windowsill, settling in for more entertainment, when movement in the gardens below catches her eye. "Someone's having a secret rendezvous in the courtyard!"</p><p>“Hilda, don’t meddle - " Gloriana warns, but it’s too late. Hilda grabs Marianne’s hand and runs out the door.</p><p>“Hey, wait for me!” Raphael yells, breaking off mid-sentence from what he was saying to Ignatz, and thunders after the girls out the open door.</p><p>"Does he even know what's going on?" Lysithea asks poor, confused Ignatz, who sighs and says, "Probably not."</p><p>"We'd better go see they don't get into trouble," says Lysithea decidedly, and she takes Ignatz by the elbow and marches him out too.</p><p>Lorenz shakes his head. “I’m not inclined to participate in this childishness, Professor." An uncharacteristically ungentlemanly yawn escapes his prim mouth, and he declares, "I'm going to bed.”</p><p>The mention of <em> bed </em> seems to break the spell on everyone left in the room. In seconds, the energy drains out of the victors high on the day's triumphs, transforming all of them into tired teenagers once again. </p><p>Bernie and Ashe get up from their quiet corner - the newest recruits to the Golden Deer House - while the older transfers, Sylvain and Felix, are herded out by Ingrid.</p><p>In the space of a minute, Gloriana and Claude are left alone.</p><p>She reaches up to touch his arm lightly, where it still rests upon her shoulder. “Have you sobered up yet?”</p><p>Claude turns towards her, his movements more in control. The drunken haze is fading from his eyes, replaced only by weariness. “A little. Flayn gave me a drop of panacea and it’s finally starting to kick in. But I think I did have one glass of whiskey too many tonight.”</p><p>Gloriana pats his arm consolingly, then gently eases herself out from under it. He didn’t need her support now that he’d found his footing. “Perhaps it’s time for you to head to bed too.”</p><p>Claude stretches his now-bereft arm above his head. “Yeah.” </p><p>Without discussing it, they wait for a few breathless seconds, until they’re sure that no more footsteps or voices can be heard echoing from the hall. Then they leave the remnants of the evening’s nightcap behind and close the common room doors behind them.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>The two of them walk in step, descending the stairs and taking the long way round to the student dormitories.</p><p>Claude pursues their earlier conversation. “I meant what I said about you being incredible today, Teach. The honest truth is that I'd hate to have you as an enemy.” </p><p>“Well, that’s going to depend on how you treat me, Claude.” </p><p>“I’m not about to be challenging you to a duel anytime soon, if that’s what you’re thinking. What I mean is, if possible, I wish for you to fight by my side.”</p><p>Gloriana shrugs. “I’m a mercenary. If we agree on a price, that’s easily done.”</p><p>Claude’s hand reaches up to rumple his thick curls. “Teach, you know that’s not what I mean.” </p><p>He opens the door and gestures for her to precede him into the stairwell. “Look, I wouldn’t be troubling you with my schemes if I could do this on my own. If I could use the Sword of the Creator, we wouldn't even be having this conversation. I bet if I could use it, you would trust me to...right?”</p><p>Gloriana crosses her arms across her chest. “I think I’d rather you trouble me than let you do fuck-all with a dangerous magical sword.”</p><p>At this, Claude laughs. The sound echoes in the empty corridor. He touches her elbow, coaxing her to drop her stance. “You know I was just kidding. That selflessness may be what I like best about you.”</p><p>“Really? Not that I ‘glow like the moon at midnight’?” Gloriana keeps her eyes straight ahead. If she turns toward him he might think she was fishing. Or say something else entirely that she wasn’t ready for.</p><p>“That too, but you know we’re great together for more than just our looks.”</p><p>Mercifully, they reach his bedroom door, and she thinks she’s spared from saying anything more. “Good night, Claude.”</p><p>“Good night, Teach.”</p><p>And then he bows to her, hand on his chest and bending at the waist in the proper way. He’s never done that before, and it takes her off guard. “On behalf of the Golden Deer House, and the Leicester Alliance, I really am grateful to you for making us what we were today. I’m convinced the gods of fortune were smiling on me on the day you chose our House.”</p><p>She’s heard thanks plenty of times before, from many of her students, but she’s never taken credit. After all, they were the ones doing the work. But coming from Claude, it’s different. Like it mattered to him personally that she had believed him that first day they met, when he said she would find a home among them.</p><p>“You’re welcome,” she replies, accepting his gratitude with grace. Then without stopping to think about it, she steps into his space and embraces him.</p><p><em> It’s just a hug, </em> she thinks. The same as she’d give Raphael, or Ignatz, or Ashe, or Sylvain, or Felix if he’d allow it, after hearing a speech like that.</p><p>But as Claude’s arms go around her, she knows she’s lying, because she’s never felt like there was an invisible string stretching between her and any of the others, one that she and Claude had been constantly tugging back and forth ever since that very first day.</p><p>A string that she now looped around her fist in earnest as she curled her fingers into the back of Claude’s coat, pulling him closer.</p><p>He snakes one hand up her back in turn, threading his fingers gently through her hair. The entire world narrows down to whiskey and pine and earth and warmth.</p><p>They stay entwined until the agonizing moment when they finally, naturally, have to break apart. No more words pass between them. Claude reaches for the door handle, and with a last rakish smile and wink, disappears into the room and closes the door.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Gloriana stands stock-still in the hallway, chest tight with the memory of Claude’s body pressed against hers. The string between them loosens as the moment has passed, but now she’s left with a hopeless knot of tension. </p><p>She leans against the door jamb for a minute, confused and overcome.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Unbeknownst to her, Claude stands with his forehead resting on the other side of the wooden door, his hand curled into a fist to prevent him from wrenching the handle open and pulling her inside with him.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>They stay like that, two disconnected halves, with only a doorway between them.</p><p>Outside, the moon glows on, a smiling, knowing crescent.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>This was in my first draft but somehow it was out of place when I finished the piece. I still like it though, and think it's important (especially to my Edelgard-related fic later in the series), so I'm uploading it as a very short outtake!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>That had been about an hour ago.  Now it was closer to midnight than eleven, and festivities or not, the dining hall had to shut down. The majority of the Blue Lions and Black Eagles students were eager to turn in, but the exuberant victors of the Golden Deer House were still high on their celebrations. Lorenz had proposed heading up to the common room “for a nightcap” before turning into bed.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you need help with Claude, Professor?” Raphael had offered. And normally Gloriana might have said yes, but Raphael had practically had an entire barrel of drink to himself. She didn’t fancy having to explain herself if he tripped on his way up and broke the future Duke Riegan’s neck. She smiles gently and tells him to go on ahead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I envy that Claude has your counsel,” Edelgard says softly, under the sound of Raphael’s heavy footsteps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gloriana glances sidelong at her. “I won’t tell Professor Manuela you said that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Edelgard starts as she realises what her words might have implied. “Oh, Professor, you know what I mean!” She blushes fiercely, embarrassed. For a moment she sounds just like a seventeen-year-old girl, hoping for a confidante in a sea of distant faces. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gloriana thinks that maybe they’ll never be proper friends, bound as they are by the secrets of the state and their own burdens, but at the very least, she could offer understanding. Support.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m just teasing,” she laughs gently. Then, more seriously: “Fodlan is a vast place, Edelgard. In your lifetime, you’ll meet many more people who can advise you who are far wiser than I could ever be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps. They won’t be like you though.” She sounds almost lonely when she says it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Edelgard looks at the hand that’s resting gently on Claude’s shoulder. “Kind. And utterly uninterested in using me to further their own ambition.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I missed y'all. Please give my babies love. &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>References used:</p><p>let your plans be dark and impenetrable - From Sun Tzu: “Let your plans be dark and impenetrable as night, and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt.”</p><p>Gorgeous - From Taylor Swift's reputation. The melody is all wrong, but the mood is there~ "You make me so happy it turns back to sad, there's nothing I hate more than what I can't have," and basically all of it.</p><p>-------</p><p>PS: In the past months since I last posted a fic, I got a new job, wrote a book, and threw myself headfirst into <a href="https://instagram.com/reinaxregina">Instagram</a>. Say hi if you're on there!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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